


Bad Day

by Kaijuscientists



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massage, Prosthesis, hanzo doesn't take care of himself, hanzo hates taking off his prosthetics, mccree sees that he does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaijuscientists/pseuds/Kaijuscientists
Summary: Hanzo doesn't take off his prosthetics if he can help it.  McCree tries to show him it doesn't have to be bad.





	Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> what are summaries even
> 
> I've had this written in the notes of my phone for a long time so i decided to try to polish it up a little and post it.

There was one thing Hanzo hated. Well, there were a lot of things, but this one was pretty high on the list. He almost never removed his prosthetic legs. It’s not that he never did, he just didn’t make habit of it. 

Jesse had already asked him on several occasions, why he didn’t remove them when they were together or when he went to sleep. McCee himself removed his arm every night it seemed. It even seemed like he even looked forward to it. Sighing in relief when he could remove it, saying that his back and shoulder tended to ache and pull due to the added weight of the metal on that side of his body. McCree worried about him and his legs, and that was fine. It didn’t change that he didn’t want to remove them, if he could help it, and definitely didn’t want to do it in front of McCree. Or anyone else for that matter.

Even now, sitting alone in his room, glancing down at his metal legs, caused his chest to tighten. It was disgraceful, he felt, when he removed them he felt incomplete, like he was unworthy, useless. He hated it, so he kept them on, for way longer than he should. Even now, his legs ached and burned from having the prosthetics attached for almost 3 three weeks. Each beat of his heart could be felt in the ends of his stumps.

He knew he’d have to take them off soon. And just thinking of it nearly sent him into a panic. 

A knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts. He moved to stand but his thigh muscles cramped and he gasped, hands grasping his knees as phantom pain shoot down into his feet.

He stays seated on his bed, trying to breath through the pain, not about to let anyone in to see him like this. He wills his visitor to leave.

But he’s not so lucky, the doorknob jiggles and opens a moment later, McCree poking his head in through the cracked door.

“Everything alright in here, sugar?” he asked.

“Im fine,“ Hanzo replied thru grit teeth, quickly sitting up, trying to keep the grimace off his face. 

“Uh, darlin, clearly you ain’t” McCree says, crossing the room, kneeling in front of Hanzo, placing a gentle hand on one knee. “Is it yer legs?”

Hanzo's response was just a growl.

“I’ll take that as a yes” McCree says. “Will you let me help you?”

The question caused hanzo to look away, down to the floor. He didn’t want that. But he didn’t want McCree to leave either, truly. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep McCree away from his legs anyway. 

“Darlin,” McCree started, “I know, you don’t like it, but,” he paused, rubbing at Hanzo's knee, in a way he hoped felt nice, “I jus’ wanna help ya.” 

Hanzo sighed, deep and weary, he placed a hand over McCree’s. “Ok.” he said, still not making eye contact. He already felt shame, that McCree was going to see him as he was.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” McCree said, giving his knee one last squeeze, before carefully taking Hanzo’s right leg, so gently in his hands. “I’m gonna take it off, alright?”

Hanzo fisted the sheet in his hands, and nodded, still avoiding looking at the man in front of him. 

Inhales sharply as McCree releases the seal, and carefully pulled the leg off, it’s never pleasant removing them. His stump is wrapped in bandages, which were stained and yellow, worn away down to skin in places. In a couple places, he could even see where the edge of the prosthetic had cut into his skin. Mccree winced in sympathy set the limb to the side, still gently holding Hanzo leg around the knee. He repeated the process for the left leg, leaving hanzo feeling naked and vulnerable, sitting on his bed.

“Darlin i’ll be back in tick” McCree said, quickly excusing himself to the bathroom.

His eyes started burning, he could feel tears threatening to spill, at allowing the man he’d come to respect see him like this

When McCree returned, with a bowl of water and washcloths, he kneeled in front of the Hanzo again. 

“You doin alright?” McCree asked, looking up at the archer. 

Hanzo just shook his head. 

“Hey, now, lookit me.” He said, Hanzo not listening. McCree hooked a finger under Hanzo’s chin, making him look up, “i don’t think any less of ya, you know.” 

“I don’t deserve…”

McCree cut him off immediately, “You do deserve, and i’m gonna see to it that you start taking better care of yourself.” He kissed Hanzo, gently, no urgency.

The tears did spill then, McCree wiping one away with his thumb. McCree sat back down on the floor and started unwinding the bandages from his stumps, which stuck in some places, where the skin has worn down enough to bleed and scab. McCree used water from the bowl to loosen them. 

Hanzo just watched, almost in awe, as McCree tended to his legs, with such gentle touches, used a warm cloth to clean away the grime and dirt that had worked its way under his prosthetics. Carefully cleaning the scrapes and the raw, irritated skin. When he was done he gently kissed each leg, causing Hanzo’s breath to catch in his chest and threaten tears to well up again. It was almost too much for him to handle.

“Doin’ alright?” McCree asked, checking in again. 

Hanzo nodded, weakly.

“I want you to lie back, get comfy.”

Hanzo nodded again, and took a deep shaky breath, scooting himself back and bringing his legs on to the bed, wincing as he muscles pulled. He propped himself up on his pillows, as McCree climbed up onto the bed, he sat with his back against the wall. 

“Lift yer legs up a minute,” He asked, situating himself so Hanzo legs were sitting across his lap. 

McCree began running his hands over his thighs and what was left of his calves, rubbing in long strokes. Whenever McCree dug his fingers in deeper to work at a tense spot, he’d here Hanzo’s breath hitch. But slowly, as he massaged all the knots away, Hanzo started to relax. When McCree looked up from his work he was not at all surprised to see Hanzo dozing against his pillows. McCree smiled to himself, happy to Hanzo relaxed, and settled in. He wasn’t about to disturb him now that he was finally resting.


End file.
